If It's All The Same To You
by Saturday
Summary: Ya know, Skitts, you are the only person I have EVER heard being witty and sarcastic while throwing up all over the floor... [slash, skiing, and general insanity ensues]
1. Chapter One: Puke

Author's Note: I love Skittery. He deserves as many fanfics as possible, right? And I feel like I owe this to him, considering the last fic I wrote had him as a felonious homicidal murderer. Well, in this one he starts off puking. Hmm. Not much better, I daresay. . .  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything. No Burger Kings, no Nirvana, no Beaver Creek, no airplanes, no newsies, just the cozy PJ's I happen to be wearing right now.  
  
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"If it's all the same to you"  
  
Chapter One  
  
I have never been a particularly fun person to travel with. I have a somewhat irrational loathing of big crowds, I get carsick very easily, I am a pessimist, and I absolutely HATE airports. There are too many people with too many bags and too many lines for the bathroom and too many Burger Kings.  
  
The last two happen to be the major reasons why I now found myself bent double on the floor, puking my heart out. Nah, more like puking my stomach out. . .  
  
"Holy shit, Skittery, y'alright?" said Mush.  
  
I looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked sardonically. "Yes, I am perfectly fine, Mush, thanks."  
  
"Ya know, Skitts, you are the only person I have EVER heard being witty and sarcastic while throwing up all over the floor," said Blink, the corner of his mouth tugging up. "Chill out, dude, he was only trying to help."  
  
I was just about to reply that I didn't really consider asking rhetorical questions "help", but I never got around to it because just then my stomach tightened convulsively and I retched again.  
  
"So it must have been the Burger King that made you toss you cookies," said Snitch thoughtfully, leaning over it and wrinkling his nose.  
  
"More like 'toss his burgers'!" said Itey. He cracked up and hopped away. "Heh heh, toss his burgers. . .man, I'm a riot."  
  
Snitch blinked, then continued smoothly, "I was thinking that it would be the week-old cold pizza you ate for breakfast this morning-"  
  
"I did NOT eat week-old cold pizza for breakfast this morning," I corrected. "I ate the mashed potatoes with the baked beans I found in the fridge."  
  
"Oh, forgive me!" sobbed Snitch sarcastically. "You ate the week-old cold pizza YESTERDAY morning."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Well that's what we're supposed to do at college, ain't it?" said Race factually. "To eat nasty stuff we find in the fridge. Anyways, I personally feel that pizza tastes better after it has sat in the refrigerator for a good 24 hours or more."  
  
"Now when you say fridge, are you referring to the average WORKING refrigerator?" Snitch cut in. "Because I've noticed that the one in our fraternity doesn't seem to have any effect on the food we put into it, let alone keep anything cold."  
  
"It makes suspicious noises too," Race agreed. "And yes, I was referring to a working refrigerator."  
  
I noticed that Spot had been staring at me for quite a while, his jaw scraping the floor (just as I had been staring at Snitch, but for an entirely different reason). "Well?" I demanded.  
  
"You- ATE the mashed potatoes and baked beans?" he choked out.  
  
"Yeah. . .?"  
  
"Do you have any idea what was IN that crap???"  
  
I raised my eyebrows mildly, thinking. "I give up. What?"  
  
"You know. . ." He glanced to the side and leaned closer. "The stuff?"  
  
"What stuff?"  
  
"The stuff! Over by the thing?"  
  
"Oh, THAT stuff."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Wait- I fucking ATE that shit????"  
  
Spot smiled reassuringly- or was it cruelly contentedly? I couldn't tell. He's a confusing little person, if you ask me. "Hey, it's only about a year old. . .It could have been a lot moldier, too, there was merely an inch-thick layer of cobwebby stuff covering the-"  
  
That was when I collapsed to my knees and puked again.  
  
*  
  
It was winter break, and most of my fraternity and I had decided to go on an elaborate vacation skiing in Beaver Creek, Colorado.  
  
Hey, I had never heard of it, either. And I must say, I caught myself wondering why the hell anyone in their right mind would want to name a town Beaver Creek. Puts downright bizarre images in my mind, if you ask me. . .  
  
Alas, no one ever seems to bother to ask me.  
  
(Melodramatic sigh.)  
  
We all piled onto the plane, and I somehow ended up between Dutchy (who was undoubtedly about to spend the four-hour ride making out with Specs) and Itey (who was undoubtedly about to spend the four-hour ride singing Veggie Tales songs to his teddy bear named Fred.) Needless to say, I was not in a very good mood.  
  
I looked out the window as we took off, and Itey starting explaining to Fred why his ears felt like they were going to explode. "Four hours," I murmured, and slid down in my seat and covered my face with my hands.  
  
I like Itey. I really do. He's just a little too intense for me sometimes, especially in small confined areas.  
  
"Alright, so who killed Skittery?" said Snitch, leaning over from the seat in front of mine.  
  
"Me!" said Itey.  
  
"I'm not surprised, somehow," Snitch answered bleakly.  
  
"Someone needs a hug from Mr. Freddy!" said Itey happily.  
  
"No, Itey, get that thing away from-"  
  
"Come on, you KNOW you want a hug!"  
  
"NO, Itey!"  
  
"Yes you do! You want a big, FUZZY hug from Mr. Freddy!!!"  
  
"Ack, don't touch me with that thing, it smells weird- ITEY! I'M GONNA-"  
  
I took my hands off my face. "You know, people generally don't appreciate it when other passengers yell at teddy bears," I informed them.  
  
Snitch looked around. Just about everybody was glaring at the pair of them so hard, I was surprised they didn't have smoke coming out of their ears. "If looks could kill," said Itey. "Sheesh." He then went back to his one- sided discussion with Fred.  
  
Snitch grinned at me. He has the most amazingly contagious grin in the world. "So. You got landed with the kid who talks to teddy bears and the two love-birds, eh?"  
  
I glanced over at Specs and Dutchy, who were discreetly making out across the aisle. (The "discreetly" part was sarcastic, you know; Dutchy was pretty much on Specs' lap. . .) I looked back at Snitch, and then quickly looked away again. He was too. . .  
  
Because, if you haven't caught on already, I am in love with Snitch Murphy. It's been a serious problem for me lately, especially since I narrowly missed puking on his feet about an hour ago. But I love everything about him- the way he looks at the world, his self-assured way of thinking, his subtle sense of humor, and his tongue.  
  
Yeah, I know I shouldn't be looking at another guy's tongue like that. But I mean seriously, he has one of the most amazing tongues you are ever going to see.  
  
"Yeah," I answered finally. "Who're you sitting with?"  
  
"Race and Bumlets," said Snitch easily. "Bumlets is just reading a book (a really boring one, might I add) and Race is listening to Nirvana in his headphones extremely loud."  
  
We both listened for a second. I could faintly hear, "With the light out, it's less dangerous! Here we are now, entertain us! I feel stupid and contagious! Here we are now, entertain us!"  
  
"Well at least it's a good song," said Snitch optimistically, smiling again.  
  
"Yeah, but not that great if you were planning on sleeping on this flight."  
  
"Well I wasn't planning on sleeping on this flight."  
  
"Oh. Well that's good then."  
  
"Mmm-hmm."  
  
Just then, the flight attendant's voice came on: "This flight does include a movie, which we will be starting shortly. The movie is 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and is rated PG-13. If you wish to view it, you may purchase headphones from the flight attendants."  
  
I looked at Snitch. "Well? Whaddaya think?"  
  
"I think I want Race to listen to U2 instead of Nirvana, Kurt Cobain's voice starts to tick me off after a while."  
  
"I meant do you want to watch the movie," I corrected dully.  
  
"Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, why not? That Johnny Depp is- a great actor."  
  
"Yeah." And he's really hot too, Snitch. But not as hot as you, of course. No one can compare to-  
  
"Excuse me, sir, would you like a pair of headphones?" asked the flight attendant, smiling that classic fake flight-attendant smile.  
  
"Uh." I smiled. "Sure."  
  
I mean, why not? Not that I have anything against Fred and his "FUZZY HUGS!", but I personally would rather watch Johnny Depp for a couple of hours. His tongue reminds me of Snitch's.  
  
I have a tongue fetish, if you haven't already guessed.  
  
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Author's Note: Why can't I ever write a story where Skittery is NORMAL? He's possibly nuttier than in my other story. . .nah, nevermind. Anyways, please review! I'll love you forever! It should get more interesting as the story progresses. . .or else I will fail miserably as a writer. Hooray! lol  
  
-Saturday 


	2. Chapter Two: Long car ride and Austin Po...

My Hurried Apology: Sorry if the Nirvana lyrics are messed up, I checked on google and got about ten different lyrics so. . .I had no idea which ones were right. So I mixed them up together! And it's probably wrong! :-) If you know the right ones, feel free to correct me.  
  
Author's Note: So, we meet again! (Terrified screams from readers) Thanks to my fabulous, wonderful, terrific reviewers! (Shoutouts at the end of the chapter.) If I could I would send you guys some chocolate and a couple of newsies to hang out with, but, as my disclaimer so adequately puts it:  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTHING. End of story.  
  
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"If it's all the same to you"  
  
Chapter Two  
  
"It's ok, Freddy, I know the pirates are kind of scary when they step into the moonlight and transform into decomposing, half-rotten skeletons with some flesh still hanging loosely from their bones, but remember, it's just a movie!" said Itey matter-of-factly to his teddy bear. He leaned closer. "What's that? You want to go to sleep? Alright then, I'll sing you a lullaby."  
  
"Oh dear God, no," I muttered.  
  
To my utmost surprise, however, Itey's rather off-key lullaby managed to cause me to sleep for the next half-hour. It was highly enjoyable, I must say. I had very vivid dreams, mainly featuring you-know-who covered in chocolate. Predictably, I was not too pleased to be woken up.  
  
"Hey Skittery, are you asleep?" said Itey.  
  
I opened my eyes. And yelled.  
  
Fred was held directly in front of my face, with his lopsided grin, almost- falling-off nose, and googlie eyes. And Snitch was right; it definitely smelled rather funny.  
  
"Man, Skitts, what the hell is wrong with you?" said Itey defensively, pulling back Fred and frowning at me. "If you aren't careful, Mr. Freddy is gonna think you don't LIKE him!"  
  
I opened my mouth to say "well, I don't" but decided not to. Itey's weird about his teddy bear. He thinks it's a real person or something. . .Instead I was going to roll over, but decided not to do that either because Specs and Dutchy were still making out.  
  
No tongues, I noticed. Man, if I had a boyfriend I'd be frenching 24/7, but (dubious sigh) to each his own.  
  
I glanced at the dude sitting next to Specs, to see if he minded that he was sitting beside a most obviously gay guy. The guy was thoroughly examining a whiteout pen. I raised an eyebrow as he sniffed it and grinned. Oh my gosh, that was freaky. Just look away, just look away. . .  
  
Snitch leaned over the back of his seat again. "Shoot me," he said.  
  
I smiled. "With pleasure." JUST KIDDING!  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Race is STILL listening to Nirvana. And you know what? It's STILL the same song! It's the only one he knows, so he's been listening to it over and over and over. . ." He shuddered.  
  
"Did he take a break to watch 'Pirates of the Caribbean'?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah, thank God. He thinks Keira Knightley is hot so he decided that 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' could wait. But I mean seriously, how many times can a guy listen to one song?"  
  
"I don't know. How many times has he listened to it?"  
  
Snitch pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his blue jeans. "53."  
  
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"  
  
"Shhhh!" Itey snapped. "Mr. Freddy's taking a nap!"  
  
"Sorry," I whispered before turning back to Snitch. Our conversation continued in an undertone. "Okay, something has to be done about this Nirvana obsession."  
  
"He's wearing a Nirvana T-shirt, too."  
  
"Well. . ." I tried not to smile at the agitated look on Snitch's face. He's so damn cute when he's upset. Aaah, scratch that. He's always so damn cute. "Tell him to listen to 'Lounge Act'. It's number nine."  
  
"Oh, I think I know that one. Is that the song where Kurt screams the last verse?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
Snitch smiled. "Race'll like that. I think I could live with him playing that one over and over."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Aaah, he's on to his 54th time playing, I'd better go and stop him!" he said suddenly, marking a tally on his little scrap of paper. "Man, that guy has issues. RACE!"  
  
"Good luck," I said as he dove back into his seat. I listened as Snitch and Race passed a few words back and forth, and 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' STOPPED. (To be honest I was rather disappointed; I like that song a lot. But I guess listening to it 54 times would get on my nerves after a while. . .) And 'Lounge Act' BEGAN.  
  
"I got this friend you see makes me feel, and I want him more than I could steal, I'll arrest myself and wear a shirt, I'll go outta my way to prove I still. . .still love you. . ."  
  
Whoa. Story of my life- not including the "arrest myself and wear a shirt" part.  
  
Snitch poked his head over the seat and winked at me. "Thanks a ton, Skitts."  
  
Woo hoo! Did you hear that? He said "Thanks a ton, Skitts." Thanks a ton! Yeeeee-HAW!! After that, even Itey's loud singing "Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit's supercalifragilisticexpialadocious!!!" to Mr. Freddy couldn't tick me off.  
  
*  
  
The plane landed, and forced Itey to put Mr. Freddy back into his backpack and Specs and Dutchy to separate (for now). Both of their lips were slightly swollen. It was very funny.  
  
"That was an incredibly long flight," said Spot. He yawned and pulled his sweatshirt on over his head. "Dude, where's my hat?"  
  
"Dude, where's my car!" said Itey, giggling.  
  
"YOUR hat is under MY seat," David said reproachfully.  
  
"Thanks babe," Spot joked and went down to get it. David frowned. I don't think he liked being called "babe" very much.  
  
We all piled out of the airplane and over to the baggage claim area. "You guys get your stuff from the carousels," Jack called out to us. "Racetrack, Specs, and Bumlets, come with me! We're gonna get the rental cars from Hertz, alright?"  
  
Itey stifled another giggle. "Why is our stuff on a carousel?" he wanted to know.  
  
"It's what they call the conveyer belt that the luggage goes on," Crutchy explained.  
  
"Really? Awesome!"  
  
I would describe every little detail of how we got our luggage and waited for about ten minutes for our car to come, but I'll spare you. In short, it took 45 minutes to get the lot of us out of the airport and into the rental cars.  
  
Man.  
  
In that period of time, Itey managed to almost lose Mr. Freddy (how Mr. Freddy got out of his backpack in the first place is a mystery to me), Mush wanted to buy a cookie at the store cookie store even though I did everything I could to convince him that airport food is BAD and makes you puke, and Jack lost the keys to his rental car. That meant we all had to go around on out hands and knees for ten minutes until Snipeshooter found them by the garbage can.  
  
This, of course, led David to lecture Jack on "What if the keys had actually fallen INTO the garbage can? THEN what would we do? What would we tell our parents?"  
  
To which Jack replied that he hadn't been in touch with his parents for almost a year, so he didn't much care what they thought.  
  
That did not make David very happy indeed. But in general none of us care too much about David and his speeches on responsibility, so sort of ignored him.  
  
We found the cars in the garage and piled into them. I was in a Volvo with Specs, Dutchy, Itey (HELP!), and my beloved Snitch. God save the poor, unfortunate souls who were landed with Racetrack; he had somehow been elected driver AND he had his Nirvana CD with him.  
  
I found myself squashed between Snitch and Itey in the back seat of our car, with Specs and Dutchy in the front. This proved to be rather dangerous, considering Dutchy leaned foreword every fifteen minutes and tried to start making out with Specs again. There were several times when we almost crashed into trees on the side of the road, and just narrowly escaped on account of the fact that Snitch has extraordinarily quick reflexes.  
  
Guess how long the car ride was?  
  
No seriously, guess.  
  
Two hours.  
  
Yeah, that's about as painful as it gets. I spent most of the ride concentrating on NOT concentrating on how Snitch's arm was brushing against mine, how he grinned at me when he cracked a joke.  
  
I glanced out the window. From the looks of it, Mush and Blink were having a how-many-times-can-you-bump-your-head-against-the-roof-of-the-car contest, bouncing up and down in the back seat of their own car. Every time one of them hit his head particularly hard, there was a resounding BOOM! and he would blink, grin, and crack up before starting again.  
  
Of course, Nirvana was blasting from Race's car. He had moved on from 'Lounge Act' and 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' and was now playing 'Breed':  
  
"EVEN IF YOU HAVE, EVEN IF YOU NEED, I DON'T MEAN TO STARE, WE DON'T HAVE TO BREED! WE COULD PLANT A HOUSE, WE COULD BUILD A TREE! I DON'T EVEN CARE, WE COULD HAVE ALL THREE! SHE SAID, SHE SAID, SHE SAID, SHE SAID, SHE SAID, SHE SAID, SHE SAID!"  
  
"RACE! COULD YOU TURN IT FRIGGIN' DOWN!" Crutchy yelled, leaning against the side of the car. It's really saying something that he had to yell; he was sitting in the passenger seat.  
  
"NO!" said Race. He started laughing hysterically and sped up down the road.  
  
All in all, only Bumlets' car was really calm. Of course every once in a while Snipeshooter burst into song, but he was soon smothered by Spot and scolded by Pie-Eater. Swifty said nothing (as per usual). He was reading Bumlets' boring book.  
  
The scenery was really striking. There were a lot of trees and a lot of mountains and a couple little towns in the valleys. I occupied myself by staring out the window most of the time, trying not to look at Snitch. He was doing an Austin Powers Mad Lib with Itey, and his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
Lord. I can't stand Snitch OR Itey in small areas, but for two very different reasons.  
  
*  
  
When we finally reached Beaver Creek, I was quite impressed. It was a very cute little town, especially for someone who was subconsciously expecting a creek filled with beavers in little tutus. And several of the mountains had been smoothed over for skiing.  
  
We are all skiers, except for Jack, who snowboards. That means we all call him a traitor. Little does he know that no snowboards are allowed in Beaver Creek. I suppose we'll all have to teach him how to ski.  
  
I am getting funny images again.  
  
We were getting our luggage out of the trunk when Snitch pulled me aside by the sleeve of my T-shirt. "Dude, Skitts, y'alright?" he asked, looking concerned.  
  
I can tell you one thing: I was most certainly NOT alright at the moment. His face was less than an inch from mine. Man, he's even cuter up close. I liked how his hair framed his face on one side.  
  
"Uh. . .yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly. "Why?"  
  
"You were just real quiet during the ride here. . .You just haven't been yourself lately, y'know? No, you wouldn't know." He shook his head, kind of confused. "Because you're the one who's. . .What I'm trying to say is, if you need anything just tell me, alright?"  
  
I smiled. Like REALLY smiled. "Thanks, Snitch. Think I'll be fine."  
  
Whoa. You know, this day started out like shit. I mean, not too long ago I was puking on the floor of the airport. . .but I suppose it didn't turn out that bad in the end, did it?  
  
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Shoutouts!!!  
  
Harlem: I love Nirvana too, and I love Kurt Cobain's voice. My Snitch!Muse likes to torture me, though. . .He likes U2 better. (Tries not to smack Snitch upside the head) Thank you so much for the review!!! Biiig hug from me, and from my Race because he thoroughly enjoyed your review. ;-)  
  
SpotLover421: I shall have to include Mr. Freddy more for you! Itey is glad that you like him, even though Snitch claims that he smells weird. . .Don't ask, my muses are a strange bunch. I love Snitch/Skittery, too! Thanks for the review, you rock! (Heh, that rhymes! I love Snitch/Skittery too, thanks for the review! Wow, I'm a poet and I didn't know it!)  
  
Nakaia Aidan-Sun: I just realized how cool your name is. I always just sort of glanced at it, but when I typed it I was like "WHOA!" Very cool, I like it a lot. . .Anyway, I'm glad you love my Itey! My Itey loves you too! lol, thanks for the review!  
  
Thumbsucker Snitch: Hooray! You're like the GOD of Skittery/Snitch, and you liked it!!!!! Big hug for you and a cookie (if I can find one). . .And I totally agree, Skitts/Snitch is extremely yummy. Very fun to write. Thanks for the review! :-)  
  
Bobcat:slashgoil: I actually have never even watched Veggie Tales, but my friend's always singing it to me so I decided to include it. . .I'm glad you like the story! I dunno if I even like this second chapter, but. . .whatever, thank you for the review!!!  
  
Checkmate: Man, just gotta say I love your name! It just makes me think of when you finally win a chess game and you lean over and say in this real dramatic whisper "Checkmate." DUN DUN DUNNNNN! lol.anyways, thanks for the review!  
  
Shakeseegirl: Froggy. lol, he just SOUNDS like a guy with a fantastic tongue! I'm sure Skitts would love to meet him. . .Yeah, Johnny Depp is VERY hott in Pirates of the Caribbean. Only in Pirates of the Caribbean, I guess. He's pretty freaky-looking in real life. Aaaaanyway, thanks a ton for the review! (And PLEASE update "Welcome to Beef Barn" soon, I'm dying!)  
  
Author's Note: Thanks a TON, all of you, for reviewing!!! You guys are the best. I'm sorry this chapter was kind of dragged out. I just can't get enough of Snitch and Skittery and our beloved Newsboys, so. . .yeah. It's not that great. :-/ Please review! Thanks! And I'm sorry if things got messed up, my computer is being very very mean to me at the moment. . .  
  
-Saturday 


	3. Chapter Three: Not too far from Jack

Author's Note: Heh heh ... my dad went to Bones Gate. And all the stuff that happens to Dave on the lift actually happened to my dad's friend on one of their ski trips. He has a very interesting life ...  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own ANYTHING WHATSOEVER and I'm broke so please don't sue me! :-) Gah, anyway, here it is ... and again, I'm sorry if the Nirvana lyrics are incorrect; google really sucks sometimes.  
  
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Chapter Three  
  
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Our fraternity's called Bones Gate, named after this English pub some Dartmouth guys had an awesome time at about a million years ago. Don't ask; our forefathers were a little out of their minds.  
  
Of course, if you were to go around Dartmouth and ask about Bones Gate, the main response would probably be something along the lines of "Oh, Bones Gate. Stay away from there! Man, what the hell are those guys ON?"  
  
We are not on anything, thank you very much.  
  
Well Itey might be, but the rest of us are naturally like this.  
  
Scary, ain't it?  
  
I guess we kind of scare the rest of the dudes here out of their wits, because we randomly throw parties and stay up literally ALL NIGHT. Don't get me wrong; we're not all complete morons— I'm actually in some of the highest courses in math and science— but we value our free nights and our beer.  
  
One time we ran out of beer, so we broke into the fraternity next door and took theirs. Man, they were pissed off when they woke up the next morning.  
  
Not that we cared ... Dude, I love college.  
  
*  
  
Somehow— I have no idea WHAT happened, but SOMEHOW I ended up rooming with Spot, Racetrack, and ITEY for our whole stay in Beaver Creek. That meant four nights. FOUR NIGHTS sleeping in the same room as Itey.  
  
I shudder just remembering it.  
  
And, naturally, there were three beds and one couch. Spot got the king- sized bed because he has some serious ego problems, Race and Itey got the two twin beds, and, as I should have expected, I got landed on the couch.  
  
Dammit.  
  
And guess what? I was woken up at 6:00 in the freakin' morning (which is really 8:00 because of the time difference --- but I was still extremely sleepy) by Racetrack. And do you know what he was doing?  
  
Hmm. This is a tough one.  
  
He had finally located the CD player that Spot and I had so carefully hidden, and he was jumping up and down on the couch listening to "On a Plain" by Nirvana.  
  
Yes, he was jumping up and down on the couch. The couch upon which I was supposedly sleeping. And he had turned Nirvana on so loud it was causing the walls to vibrate.  
  
"START THIS OFF WITHOUT ANY WORDS! I GOT SO HIGH I SCRATCHED TILL I BLED! LOVE MYSELF BETTER THAN YOU! I KNOW IT'S WRONG BUT WHAT SHOULD I DO!"  
  
"AAAH, RACE, TURN IT FREAKIN' DOWN!" I hollered, trying to get off the couch before he crushed my ... never mind.  
  
"NO! THIS IS THE BEST SONG IN THE WORLD!" Race hollered back.  
  
Well if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, I suppose. I took his outstretched hand, and the two of us bounced around on the couch. "I'M ON A PLAIN! I CAN'T COMPLAIN! I'M ON A PLAIN! I CAN'T COMPLAIN!!"  
  
A shirtless and obviously half-asleep Spot came out his room, yawning and running his fingers through his hair. Without a word he went over to the CD player, unplugged it, and went back into his room, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"Asshole," said Race.  
  
Just then someone knocked on the door of our condo. "Who is it?" said Race in a falsetto voice. I don't know why, but he always answers the door like that.  
  
"Snitch," said Snitch from the other side of the door. "Are you decent?" he asked Britishly.  
  
"Depends on what you consider 'decent'," I said, wiggling my eyebrows.  
  
There was a moment of silence on the other side of the door. Snitch was apparently trying to decide whether he was going to risk seeing us "indecent". In the end he must have decided he would risk it, because he laughed and opened the door.  
  
I swear that the minute that kid came into the room, that song by JET filled the air. "So 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me because you look so fine and I really wanna make you mine! Said you look so fine and I really wanna make you mine! Oh 4, 5, 6, c'mon and get your kicks! Now you don't need money when you look like that, do ya honey!"  
  
Yeah, my life came complete with a soundtrack and everything. Sad, ain't it?  
  
But seriously! I mean there I was in my boxers, jumping up and down on the bed with Race (who had no shirt on and was wearing bright red PJ pants with snowmen and pineapples all over them) and Snitch came in looking like an angel sent from God.  
  
He tilted his head to the side and looked us over. "You know, if I didn't know you guys better I'd interpret this in a very sick way," he said. He winked at me. I blushed.  
  
Racetrack didn't miss a beat. He bowed. "Diggin' the pants, Snitch?" he said cockily. "Skitts and I were just listening to Nirvana—" he raised his voice and shouted at Spot's closed door "—BEFORE SPOT CAME AND TURNED IT FREAKIN' OFF!"  
  
"FUCK OFF, RACE, I FEEL LIKE SHIT!" Spot yelled back.  
  
"Well that's all well and good, but DON'T TAKE IT OUT ON NIRVANA, MAN!" Race sobbed.  
  
Snitch raised an eyebrow. "Okay, dude, I think this Nirvana thing has gotten to a point where it has developed into an unhealthy obsession," he said slowly.  
  
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a shit," said Race, and he promptly went over to the CD player to see if he could plug it back in.  
  
Snitch and I looked at each other, trying not to laugh. "So you wanna go skiing sometime soon?" he said finally.  
  
"At 6:00 in the morning?"  
  
He shrugged, smiling.  
  
"Why're you up, anyway? I mean if it were up to me, I'd still be sleeping right now," I said.  
  
He shrugged again. I raised an eyebrow, but let it go. It wasn't any of my business anyway.  
  
"START THIS OFF WITHOUT ANY WORDS! I GOT SO HIGH I SCRATCHED TILL I BLED!"  
  
"Aha, THERE we go!" Race yelled at Spot's closed door. "TAKE THAT, Mr. I'm- too-cool-for-Nirvana! HA! MWAHAHAHA!! I AM THE KEEPER OF THE CD PLAYER! BOW AND FEAR ME!!!!! I RULE OVER YOU ALL---"  
  
"RACETRACK HIGGINS, GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DOOR!!!" Spot yelled from his room.  
  
"NO! I SHALL NOT! I AM THE EATER OF THE PINEAPPLE, AND YOU ARE THE PINEAPPLE, AND I RULE OVER YOU ALL WITH A --- AAAAAH, SPOT, I WAS JUST KIDDING--- NO, DON'T TOUCH ME, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY---"  
  
Snitch and I watched with amusement as Spot tackled Race to the ground and proceeded to almost knock him out --- and then he unplugged the CD player again.  
  
Snitch turned to me. "I have a feeling this is going to be going on for quite a while. Ya wanna come over to our place for breakfast? I think Cowboy's out of bed by now, and he's always fun to poke when he's still half-asleep."  
  
*  
  
"AAAH! WHERE'S MR. FREDDY'S MITTEN???"  
  
"It's right here, Itey, you dropped it when you were getting in line for the gondola."  
  
"Oh, thank GOODNESS, Skittery! I love you!"  
  
"You don't mean that."  
  
"Yes I do! I love you very much, and so does Mr. Freddy. Isn't that right, Freddy?"  
  
"Dear God, what did I ever do to deserve this???"  
  
Snitch laughed. He was looking incredibly cute in a green ski jacket and a hat that was too big for him; it went down over his eyes every once and a while, so he kept having to push it up with a mittened hand.  
  
Yes, he was wearing mittens. DROOL.  
  
I was currently squished between Itey and Bumlets on one side of the gondola. Blink and Mush were sitting next to Snitch on the other side, giggling hysterically. They had just witnessed Jack's reaction to the stunning information that no snowboarders are allowed in Beaver Creek, and it was very funny. Dave and Boots were at the Bunny Slope at the base of the mountain this very minute, trying to teach him how to ski. Dude, I really wish I were there to watch.  
  
I'm a pretty average skier, I think. I can do all blues and most blacks. So can Snitch and Bumlets, and Blink and Mush kind of do everything. I had no idea what level Itey was at; I had never seen him ski.  
  
Spot and Race were up at the other mountain doing double black diamonds. Yeah, I know; not that long ago they were both at each other's throats. What can I say? They are quick to forgive.  
  
The gondola reached the top and we all got out and put our skis on. Itey took a great deal of time making sure Mr. Freddy was all bundled up with his little mittens, scarf, and ski goggles.  
  
Yeah, you heard me right. He had mini ski goggles for his teddy bear.  
  
Shoot me.  
  
Eventually, we got Itey and Mr. Freddy out of the gondola area and onto the slopes. That was the tricky part. Once we were on the actual mountain, he sped ahead without any difficulty.  
  
He's a surprising guy. Itey, I mean. You'd think he would be completely clumsy at all times, but he's actually a fabulous skier. You'd never expect it from him.  
  
We all met at the bottom; Itey first, me and Snitch next, then Bumlets, and Blink and Mush bringing up the rear. "Hey, is that Specs and Dutchy over there?" said Bumlets suddenly.  
  
"I don't think so, their mouths aren't touching," said Snitch.  
  
I laughed. "Nah, that's them. I recognize Dutchy's jacket."  
  
We skied over to them to find them doubled over, laughing hysterically. "Are you guys ok?" said Mush, looking concerned.  
  
"No," Specs managed to gasp, clinging to Dutchy for support.  
  
"What happened?" Blink asked.  
  
That brought another wave of laughter from the pair of them, and Dutchy simply tipped sideways and continued to giggle on the ground. It was the weirdest thing ever. The six of us waited patiently until the laughter died down a little and Specs looked ready to explain.  
  
"So we were on the Bunny Slope, right?" he began, still grinning with anticipation. "Dave had given up trying to teach Jack how to ski, so Boots had been left with him all by himself. So Dave comes with us to one of the Triples, and we try to get on --- but he must have been real tired or something because his ski tip got caught in the snow and he just got dragged off the lift and onto the ground."  
  
I started to laugh.  
  
"But that's not the half of it!! So we ski down to get him and demand to know what happened, and as we get on the lift the second time he tried to show us how his ski got caught. So he was tilting the tip down to show what happened, and then it got caught in the snow and he got pulled off again!" Specs giggled.  
  
"Are you kidding me?" laughed Bumlets.  
  
"Wait --- so then we had decided it wasn't safe to go up with Dave, so we went up by ourselves and Dave went up with some other girl," Dutchy continued. "For some reason he was under the impression that it was Jack's new girlfriend Amber --- again, we think he is a little tired --- and so he was talking to her like an old friend and all that good stuff. And so she was like 'Well where do you live?' and he answers 'Oh, not too far from Jack'. But it turns out that the girl was not Amber, she was a complete stranger."  
  
Man, were we laughing pretty damn hard by then. "Can you IMAGINE that?" Dutchy panted. "'Where do you live?' 'Oh, near Jack.' And the girl was too polite to go 'Who the hell is Jack??' so she just let him talk to her like he had known her forever..."  
  
Snitch looked up at the mountain. "Where is Dave?"  
  
"Oh he's coming. Pissed off and embarrassed, but he is coming," said Specs, looking up too.  
  
And come he did. We all pretended not to laugh as he came huffing and puffing down the mountain, glaring at everybody. "It was NOT funny" was all he said before he went down to go back up the lift again.  
  
Itey tutted sadly. "Poor kid. He was really starting to grow on me."  
  
*  
  
Itey, Snitch and I decided to take the last run of the day together on the Triple. I wasn't quite as fed up with Itey at the moment because a.) he didn't talk as much when he was skiing, and b.) it wasn't a small, confined area. 'Cause he needs WIDE OPEN SPAAAAAAACES!! ROOM TO MAKE HIS BIG MISTAAAAAKES!!  
  
Ahem. I'll be fine.  
  
We reached the top and got off. "Where to?" said Snitch.  
  
"I wanna ski Jackrabbit Alley again, that one's awesome," said Itey, cuddling Mr. Freddy (who was quite frozen by now --- literally).  
  
"That's ok with me." Snitch looked at me. "Do you wanna do that one?"  
  
"Sure, why not?"  
  
We headed down Lord until we reached Jackrabbit Alley. It was a narrow mogul run that we had taken several times before. "Ya wanna go first?" Snitch asked.  
  
"Sure..." I leaned foreword and skied into Jackrabbit Alley, automatically getting into my mogul frame of mind. Back, fourth, back, fourth ... man, my legs were killing me. I could hear Snitch behind me, and vaguely Itey behind him. The three of us zigzagged across the run. Back, fourth, back --- WHAM!  
  
Itey's ski had caught on some branch that had been strewn across the snow. He had fallen and slid into Snitch, who had in turn collapsed and slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. Mr. Freddy flew out of Itey's arms. We all watched as he soared in a high arc in the sky, and, as if in slow motion, hit the ground and began to slide. "NOOOOOOOOOO!" Itey bellowed, flinging himself after his beloved teddy bear.  
  
Snitch and I saw him catch up to the bear and sit down on the ground, embracing him tightly. It was very funny.  
  
Snitch tried to get up. We were positioned so that I was curled up sideways on the slope and he was sort of draped across my stomach. Upside- down.  
  
"Here, let me help you." I offered him my gloved hand, and he took it in his mittened one. Our eyes met.  
  
Before I knew it he had slowly leaned foreword and our lips brushed together for a second. His tongue ran lightly over my lips, our breath misting out in front of us. Then he lurched back, apparently astonished at what he had just done.  
  
"I'll --- dude, I'll meet you at the bottom," he said, and skied down as quickly as he could.  
  
I lay there long after he had skied away. Wondering whether or not to smile and do a dance of victory.  
  
--------  
  
Shoutouts!!!  
  
quietviolence: Yeah, I love Nirvana! That's hysterical, what happened to your friend. Anyway, thanks for the review! I love Itey with a teddy bear, too, it makes me very happy.  
  
Thumbsucker Snitch: I know, I love Itey!! And I'm sorry, is this enough "Snittery" for you? (aaah, that's the funniest thing I have ever heard in my life, I cracked up when I read it!!) I tried to put more into this chapter, but my muses are revolting against me. They claim I don't feed them enough.  
  
kellyanne: Aaah, thank you so much for the review!!! (You're like my hero, I love your writing) I melted when I read that you melted! Wow, that was weird ... Anyway, thanks a lot, babe (lol).  
  
ershey: Race is EXTREMELY cool!!! Well, my portrayal of Race isn't really, but Racetrack in general is extremely cool! lol, I used to shove my face in front of other people when they had their eyes closed too, but I haven't done that in a while ... hmm. I should try that when I get back to school.  
  
SpotLover421: I wrote this shoutout a while ago, and I had said "Hooray, you can review!" But now you've been able to review for a while, so I'm not going to say that ... Anyway, I'm glad you like it! Thank you for the review!! 


	4. Chapter Four: Skiing With Your Pants Dow...

**Author's Note:** I'm thinking this is gonna be the last chapter.  I am rather depressed.  Ah well, I'll get over it. :-)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Beaver Creek, the newsies, or Nirvana.  Period.

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Chapter Four 

-----

Well.  This vacation was certainly turning out a little different from how I had imagined it.  After the first day of skiing, Dave had locked himself in his room and refused to leave because he was tired and embarrassed.  Jack wouldn't go skiing because he was also tired and embarrassed, but for a different reason.  Itey remained in the living room, singing Broadway show tunes to Mr. Freddy because he claimed he had gotten the flu when he had fallen in the snow.  (I tell you, this boy is insane.)

In the end, the only people who went skiing on the last day of our four-day vacation were Race, Spot, Specs, Dutchy, Snitch, and me.  Pathetic, ain't it?  We're a bunch of lightweight losers, if you ask me.  Tired and embarrassed ... HA!

Well there are a lot of things you can do with six college boys that you can't do with twenty-five.  I think we scared the other skiers a little bit, for good reasons.

Snitch skied over to me after we got off the lift at around one in the afternoon.  "Hey Skitts ... Race had this idea, his friends and him saw some other guys doing it when they were skiing in Vermont."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."  He beckoned me to come closer so he could whisper it in my ear, which I did obligingly.  Heh heh...

Well.  The idea was absolutely insane, but we did it anyway.

*

"Well, Betty, I used these ingenious little thumbtacks to hold up the curtain.  I think it gave it a real authentic look, you know?"

"Oh but of course, Tillie!  I never thought of using thumbtacks.  Where would I be able to buy some of them?"

"Well I went to this simply _adorable_ little shop called 'Quill and --- Oh my gosh!"

If I hadn't been having so much fun, I would have felt rather sorry for the two elderly ladies we passed.  As it turned out, Race's 'idea' was that we all pull down our pants and ski in just our boxers with our jeans down at our ankles.  The idea was to see how long we could go before one of us fell over and got snow up his underpants.

I was skiing directly behind Snitch.

Man.

Do I even _need_ to give details?  BABY!

Dutchy fell first.  Specs fell on top of him.  Accidentally on purpose.  Spot did a magnificent flying jump and skied right over them.  Race skied around them.  Snitch and I tried to do a jump like Spot but kind of fell over.

In any case, Specs, Dutchy, Snitch, and I all ended up with soaking wet underpants and snow down our t-shirts.  Dude, that was awesome.

And, just to add to the hilarity of it all, Betty and Tillie skied past us several minutes later and whispered, "Oh look, Tillie, it's those little oddball boys who were skiing with their pants down --- kids these days!"

Of course, Racetrack fell over from laughing so hard at being called an "oddball boy" by two plump old ladies, and Spot fell over just because everyone else was.  This did not please Tillie and Betty too much, to be sure.  The tutted loudly and skied slowly away, making smooth tedious turns.

Old ladies these days!

"Ah, that was fun..." Racetrack sighed.  He stood up and then straightened suddenly.  "OH!  SNOW DOWN THE PANTS!  AAAAH!"

"I didn't really consider the aftereffects of doing this," said Dutchy, halfheartedly trying to get up from under Specs.

"Yeah, me neither..."

"_START THIS OFF WITHOUT ANY WORDS!  I GOT SO HIGH I SCRATCHED TILL I BLED!_  I'M NOT THINKING ABOUT THE SNOW FREEZING OFF MY TWO BEST FRIENDS!  I'M REALLY NOT!  _LOVE MYSELF BETTER THAN YOU!  KNOW IT'S WRONG BUT WHAT SHOULD I DOOOOOOOO?_"

Yeah ... Ya thought we were getting funny looks BEFORE?

*

"I'M ALL ALOOOOOOONE, THERE'S NO ONE HERE BESIIIIIIIDE ME..." I sang sadly.  And it was true; I was sitting on the lift swinging my legs back and fourth all by myself.  My beloved Snitchykins had decided to go on a mogul run by himself, Race and Spot were off together on some insanely difficult double black diamond, and Specs and Dutchy were no doubt making out in the snow somewhere.

And here I was, abandoned by my friends, deserted by my true love, going up the lift alone and singing loudly.

Ah, what a pathetic life I lead.

I was just about to burst into song again when my walkie-talkie buzzed on.  "Hey, uh --- Skitts?"

"Snitch?"

"Hey."

"...Hey."

My, this was bizarre.  And rather awkward.  I was about to demand why he had called me when he spoke again.

"Um ... I think I broke my wrist."

"_What?!?!?_"

"Maybe I'm overreacting but..." He breathed out heavily and I could almost hear him wincing.  "It kinda kills."

"Wait --- _you think you broke your wrist_??  What the hell _happened_?"

He breathed out again.  "I dunno..."

"Whaddaya mean you don't know?"

"I fell."  He swallowed. "Some guy went over my skis and I fell and skidded sideways ... and slammed into a tree."

"YOU HIT A TREE??"

"_Jesus_, Skittery, it wasn't a BIG tree ... I put out my arm to stop me and---"

"Where are you?"

"Goldmine.  Double black."

"I'm comin' to get you, Snitch, don't friggin' move."

He chuckled.  "Always my savior, Skitts, eh?"

"If you wanna put it that way."

"Why not?"

"Alright ... Don't move, I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Alright ... Oh and Skitts?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

I smiled and turned my walkie-talkie off.  What the hell ... Bastard.  Go over his skis, eh?  No respect for others _whatsoever_ ... man, if I'd been there ...

After that, the lift couldn't go fast enough.  I started going the second my skis touched the snow and almost missed the turn onto Goldmine because I was going so fast.

I found Snitch curled up on the side of the run near the bottom, his gloves off and his arm resting on his lap.  He looked kind of embarrassed and gave me a half-assed smile when I stopped next to him.  "Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Lemme see your wrist," I said.  He shifted so that he could put his arm on my lap instead.  I looked at it.  There weren't any bones sticking out or anything, but I was only nineteen; I'd never been a doctor and I didn't plan on being one either.

I looked up at him to see that he had been looking at me instead of his wrist.  He tilted his head to the side.

"How much does it hurt?" I asked, trying to stay focused.

"Enough."  He almost smiled.  "I honestly don't think I _broke_ my wrist, but---"

"But you don't wanna ski all the way to the bottom by yourself."  He nodded.  "Well."  I got up.  "I suppose that means I'm gonna have to ski you down, does it?  Here, wrap your arm up with my sweatshirt until we can get you to the lodge and call a doctor."

He smiled his thanks and took my sweatshirt from me gratefully.  "Ya know," he said slowly as he wrapped his arm up, "if I have to get a cast ... I'll get it pink just for you."

I laughed.  The corner of his mouth tugged up in the unmistakable Snitch Murphy half-smile.  I swallowed and leaned forward, unsure of how he would react if I kissed him again.  His smile faded and he turned his head.  "I --- I'm sorry."  He looked as if he wanted to say more but he couldn't figure out how to say it, so he just closed his mouth and shrugged.

I looked down, embarrassed.  "C'mon, we'd better get to the bottom so we can call the doctor about your wrist..."

*

Snitch's wrist wasn't broken, but he had sprained it.  They put it in a sling and said that he would have to keep it on for several weeks until the muscles healed.  He was not particularly thrilled, to say the least, but he was certainly relieved that he didn't have to get a cast.  (Besides, he hates pink.)

The other guys were astonished when the six of us came back to the house with Snitch with his arm in a sling.  "What did you DO?" David demanded.

"Way to end your last day here," said Snipeshooter gloomily.

"I TOLD you skiing was dangerous, it's a STUPID sport and NOBODY should do it ever again!" Jack bellowed angrily.  Nobody was listening to him, however.  They were more worried about Snitch.

"Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?" Mush asked concernedly.

"You're such a mother, Mush," Blink laughed, messing with his hair.

"I am NOT a mother!"

"Besides, he doesn't need hot chocolate, he needs NIRVANA!" Racetrack shouted.  "Don't you, Snitch?  Wouldn't you rather listen to Nirvana than drink hot chocolate?"

"You MORON, not everybody is obsessive-compulsive Nirvana," Spot snapped.

"YES, CABBAGE HEAD!"

"I AM NOT A CABBAGE HEAD!" 

"GUYS!" Snitch yelled.  "PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET IN THE CAR OR WE'RE GONNA MISS OUR PLANE!"

Everyone stopped talking and looked at him and then turned and glanced at the clock.  "He's right, we should probably head out," said David after a minute.

"That's _tragic_!" Race sobbed.  "I don't wanna leave!"

"There there," Spot said soothingly, patting him on the back.

"You don't _understand_!" Race cried.  "I've listened to every song on 'Nevermind' at least a hundred times, Spot!  I'm actually tired of that CD!  I'm --- I'm not _ME_ without Nirvana!!!  What am I going to _DO_ on the ride back??"

Spot smiled and reached into the pocket of his blue jeans.  "As stupid as I may seem, I do have a brain.  And more than just half of one."

Itey sniggered, but Spot ignored him.

"And I foresaw this coming, so---" He held something out to Racetrack.  "Here.  I picked this up for you before we left New York."

Race stared at it, bewildered.  "In Utero?" he said slowly.

"It's Nirvana's next album after Nevermind..." Spot shrugged awkwardly.  "I figured you'd like it."

"Oh SPOT!" Race cried, lunging at him and giving him a huge hug that quickly turned into a passionate kiss.  The rest of the boys catcalled and all that good stuff, but I don't think Spot or Race even heard it.

And I must say, they looked very cute together.  I've never seen either of them smile so much.

*

An hour later, I found myself squished into the back seat of a car driven by Racetrack with Spot in the passenger seat.  I was currently crushed between Snitch and Itey (again, I know, it's insane), the last place I wanted to be at the moment.

Itey was singing softly to Mr. Freddy despite the loud Nirvana music.  "All the cattle are standing like statuuuuuuuues!  All the cattle are standing like statuuuuuuuues!  That's all I know of this stupid soooooooooooooooong!  Gee I sure wish this car ride wasn't so loooooooong!  Oh what a beautiful moooooorning!" etc etc.

I glanced at Snitch from under my baseball cap to find him glancing at me the exact same way.  We both coughed loudly and quickly looked in different directions, pretending nothing had happened.

The last song on the new Nirvana album.  Race looked absolutely brokenhearted.

What else should I be All apologies What else should I say Everyone is gay 

HA!  I wish...

_What else should I write_

_I don't have the right_

_What else should I be_

All apologies 

Ah, story of my life.  What else should I be, Snitch?  HUH?  You kiss me and then you don't and then you go and sprain your wrist!  ASSHOLE!

Not really ... I still love that guy like hell.  That's the pathetic part.

The next verse made me think of Itey, somehow.

I wish I was like you 

_Easily amused_

_Find my nest of salt_

_Everything's my fault_

"Hey Snitch?"

He turned to look at me.  Apologetic.  Longing.  _Longing?  _What the fuck?  Man, I was getting confused.

"Yeah, Skitts?"

I forced a half-assed smile.  "I'm sorry."

He opened his mouth, closed it, and slipped his hand around the back of my neck.  Then, to my utter astonishment, he leaned forward and kissed me.  Tongue and everything, baby.  And I'll tell you it felt twice as good against my tongue as it looked like it would, despite my confusion at what exactly was going on in Snitch's mind.

He pulled back, his hand still at the back of my neck.  "I'm sorry too," he said quietly.  "I was confused --- I'm sorry."

My mouth curved in the first genuine smile in a while.  I didn't answer but leaned in and kissed him again.

Nirvana, where would I be without you?

**[the end]**

**-----**

**Shoutouts!!**

**Thumbsucker Snitch:** I have a question for you, O Goddess of Snittery.  Did you actually _create_ the pairing or did you just perfect it?  Just curious ... Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for the review, I love you!! :D

**arwenevenstar88:** I LOVE NIRVANA TOO!  WOO HOO! lol anyway thank you soooo much for the review, it made me incredibly happy.

**queenofgondor21:** Man, I love Johnny Depp!!!  Have you seen "What's Eating Gilbert Grape"?  It's an older movie but he was fantastic in that, I think that's when he first earned my respect ... Man, I sound like a GRANDMOTHER!  "He really earned my respect" AAAH!  Here, allow me to speak like the normal teenage girl I am: Johnny Depp is a sexy beast and a great actor and I love the hell outta him!  Ah, there we go.  Thank you for reviewing!

**Elizabeth Krueger:** I'm very VERY glad you liked it, thank you sooo much for the review!!! :D

**kellyanne:** Wow.  _Thank you._  MAN your review made me grin, thank you so much!!  (And it's ok if you don't boweth at my feeteth for this chapter, I am well aware that it sucks.  I was having serious issues writing it today ... dunno what happened.)

**Scout73:** Ah, I didn't forget your shoutout on this one, at least ... :-) Sorry about that.  Thank you so much for reviewing, and I apologize for the lack of Mr. Freddy and Itey in this chapter.  Gah, the more shoutouts I write the more depressed I am!  This chapter really did suck.  I hate sucky chapters ... Anyway, thank you for reviewing, love ya!

**SpotLover421:** Thank you so much for reviewing, I am glad this story made you squeal! (lol) And I am sorry for this sucky chapter ... :-(

**Oxymoronic Alliteration:** Sweet name, man ... Definitely lovin' it.  Anyway thank you so much for the review!  I am very glad this story made you squeal, lol.

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**Author's Note:** If I haven't already said so in your shoutout, I am very sorry that this chapter was not that great ... ok, so it really sucked.  But I accept that, and I don't want you to think that I am actually PROUD of this writing. :-) (Half-assed smile like Skittery) Anyway, thanks to all readers and reviewers, I love you all!!!

-Saturday


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